A Soul Full of Vomit
by FunnyHats
Summary: Tweek's a strange kid that copes with the hardships of life through his imagination. While Craig's a dick who can't seem to escape reality enough to make himself happy, and is on the brink of expulsion. Opposites attract. Creek.


**Disclaimer: South Park isn't mine. **

**Welcome to my South Park fic. Please review telling me what you think and whether I should continue with this thing. Thanks :D **

**-Tweek POV-**

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><p><strong>Chapter One: Mosquito Eating Space Invaders<strong>

If Earth was ever to be invaded, I feel like it would be for the best. Suddenly there would the first war of Man vs Alien, instead of Man vs Man. People would get along better. It would no longer be about what color /religion/ culture you are…as long as you were human you'd automatically be deemed a good guy. Or maybe the good guys would actually be the alien invaders, but who knows? We're too self-centered to get into their side of the story. Then, in the epic war of Man vs Alien, human-kind would predictably prevail due to some clichéd mistake that the aliens made when they landed here. Let's say they gave into the temptation of eating chocolate, which is a delicacy throughout the universe and can only be made on Earth. But, chocolate is poisonous to the aliens, so they die about a month after consuming it. Would that make the aliens related to dogs in any way? Because I heard, from the kids at school, that dogs can't eat chocolate. They're allergic to it or something. That's why, when I was younger, I refused the offer from my parents to get a puppy. I was _way _too paranoid. After all, there was always chocolate in my house. I loved chocolate, so my mom would always bake me chocolate stuff: pancakes, cakes, brownies, you name it. I guess I could get a dog now, because there's never chocolate in my house anymore. Actually, there's not much of anything. It's like she took it all when she left.

What if Earth was invaded and the aliens were actually a type of species that ate mosquitoes to live? Instead of starting a Man vs Alien war, we'd befriend the invaders and gladly welcome them to our planet. Because no one likes mosquitoes, they're really annoying. Getting rid of mosquitoes would be getting rid of, like, a million diseases. My mom taught me how to spell the word disease. I'd always have trouble with it for when I tried to write things. So, she told me, "if you have a disease, you're not living in ease, but dis-ease" . So, I think of that whenever I spell the word. But, I also think of her. The aliens would eat all of the mosquitoes, and fewer children in Africa would die from malaria. People in the U.S would be happier that they can finally have a barbeque without getting eaten alive. And Bear Grylls wouldn't have to smear himself with so much mud to avoid the bugs. But, without mosquitoes, entire ecosystems would be destroyed. Small fish would have nothing to eat and die. Then, big fish would have nothing to eat and die. Bats would have no food either, and they would die. Then, this one type of bird that eats bats would die. Whole wolf packs would die because in this one place, the reason behind the caribou's migration is from being annoyed by mosquitoes. And then, caribou would over populate and eat all the green of the forest. They'd die. Ultimately, we'd die because that's how the Earth works. Except, you know what's interesting? I could take any animal out of the equation, and predict that life on Earth would cease to exist. However, if I take humans out of the equation, not only would life continue, but it would probably flourish. What does that say about us?

I used to worry a lot about dying. Actually, I used to worry a lot about everything. My dad says it's because I have really bad anxiety. He tells me its normal, but I don't believe him. If it was normal, I wouldn't need to take pills for it. I have to take pills for a lot of things. I shake a lot, and occasionally stutter. Dad says that it's from my ADHD, which I take pills for. Part of me doesn't believe him, because I've read that people can shake and stutter if they intake too much caffeine. Which I do. I drink a lot of coffee, but not because I like it. Actually, I detest it. I only drink coffee because it makes my dad really happy. Dad's always sad. That's another thing I take pills for. After she died, my dad gave me some special meds to make me better when I didn't recover. I didn't think it was possible for a sixth grader to be clinically depressed. But, they also said it was impossible for a man to get pregnant and that happened. I should also take pills for my insomnia. But, my dad's afraid to put me on more meds than I already am. I kind of wish he would, so then I wouldn't be awake at three in the morning watching gnomes steal the underpants from my dresser. I wonder if the gnomes would side with humans or aliens. I think it would depend on whether or not aliens wore underpants. Gnomes are really greedy and only care about profit. So, I think they'd side with us, because we all know that aliens don't wear underpants. Without us, the gnomes would have no business. So, I guess some things _do _rely on the human race. Huh.

I bought a ukulele last year to prove to the other kids at school that I have talent. My school has a talent day, which seems a bit immature for a high school, every year where each kid shows their special skill to their home-room class. It's stupid, because we never spend time in home-room unless we need to take college surveys. I brought my ukulele because everyone was convinced I wouldn't play anything. I learned how to play the song _I'm Yours _the night before. I actually don't like the song, but it was really easy to learn, and I thought my classmates would like it because it was popular enough. I played the ukulele for three minutes in front of twenty people. It felt awesome. I hate performing in front of people, unless it was my mom. But I thought I was cool playing my ukulele because no one else knew how, and Wendy Testaburger clapped at the end. A lot of people like Wendy Testaburger. That was last year, my freshman year, but now I'm a sophomore and realize that talent day is something that freshmen only really participate in. _I'm Yours_ is still the only song I can play; I never bothered to learn anything else.

I kind of wish I had it now, so then I wouldn't have to listen to Liza talking to my dad downstairs. But, I broke a string and its getting repaired at the music shop on Main Street. Or, the instrument hospital, as I like to call it. Actually, I don't like to call it that because when I said that to Liza she thought it was cute. I think Liza should stay at the coffee shop where the rest of the employees stay. I told her this when she came over to dinner one day. My dad got really mad at me and told me to go to my room. I slammed the door and started to cry for no reason. I know sixteen year old boys shouldn't cry, but I cry a lot. I blame my pills. Pills are a nice scapegoat. I think that's the only thing their good for. All my teachers know I'm on pills, so when I tell them I need to leave the class; they let me go without any questions. Then, I'm free to go to the clinic and sit on the cot to space out for an hour. Sometimes I'll bring a notebook and make mini comics. I used to post them online, like on one of those blog sites, but then I got afraid that no one would think they're funny, so I took them down. Liza thought they were funny, which I hate.

If you were to live for 7 billion seconds, you'd be alive for two hundred and twenty years. That's weird to think about. It makes me think that seconds are so much longer than they seem. Or realize that 7 billion is a lot larger than I thought it was. There's a type of clam that can live that long. I bet humans wish they could live that long. Because everyone's afraid of death, no matter what they believe in. I'm terrified of death. Because, once you die you disappear. Not that I'm bashing any religious belief. But, what I'm saying is you disappear from _here_: Earth. Kind of. And, the only thing that insures you actually existed is the people you left behind. But, if I died, no one would remember me. It'd be cool if aliens _did _invade Earth, then I could save the day and be a hero. I'd never have to question my existence.

I think of this while sitting in the clinic. I wished I had my notebook so I could make a cool comic of me kicking the slime out of some aliens. I bet Jimmy would like it. He likes my comics, he's the only one I show them to now a days. I asked the nurse, Judy, if I could run to my locker real quick. She held a finger up to me, telling me to wait I guess. She was on the phone with another staff member. I think they were bringing someone in by the sound of it. That made me uncomfortable, because I hated when there was someone in the clinic with me, they made me feel awkward. When she hung up I asked what happened.

"A fight broke out in the Math Wing."

"Bloody nose?"

"Yep."

"Judy, I don't like when people come in here with bloody noses. It makes me anxious."

"Unless you want to go back to class, you'll just have to ignore it." She should know I just can't ignore a bloody nose. I have to stare at it because I hate it. I guess I'm sort of a masochist, but I'm also a lot of other things. Like, if I had my notebook, I'd be an alien annihilating badass.

"So, can I go to my locker?"

"In a minute Tweek."

Craig Tucker walked into the room. His right eye was swelling up into what probably would be a black eye by tomorrow. I kind of wish it was a black eye now because I think the color of bruised skin is pretty. That's why I used to give myself bruises after mom died. Because nothing else seemed beautiful anymore. I stopped though, after dad gave me pills. He had a tissue stuffed up one of his nostrils and I caught a glimpse of crimson staining the white tissue. It made my stomach queasy, but I kept staring. Craig saw me and flipped up his middle finger. I kept staring anyway. Honestly, I was fine with Craig being in the clinic, because he's always here. He gets into a lot of fights, but doesn't seem to ever win them.

"Stop fucking looking at me."

"No."

"What?"

"Your nose is bleeding."

"No shit Sherlock."

Judy told Craig to take a seat in the cot adjacent to mine. I shifted my position so I could stare at him some more. I thought Craig was pretty, and I told him that once but he just called me a fag. I didn't really care though. Because who doesn't want to hear that they're pretty? I asked my mom what's so wrong with telling a guy he looks good, and she said there was absolutely nothing wrong. I'm not an idiot; I know people will label me as gay. But, I have bigger things to worry about. Like mosquito extinction.

"The bruise around your eye will look really nice with the bright blue of your iris." I said.

"Tweek, shut the fuck up."

I did, but only because I lost my interest in him. I closed my eyes and leaned back against the cot, deciding to distantly listen to Judy speak with Craig.

"The counselor would like to see you once your nose stops bleeding."

"Yeah, I know."

"So, what was it this time?"

"None of your business."

"You have to stop the fighting, Craig. It's only a matter of time before the school expels you."

"Yep."

I remember thinking it would suck if Craig got expelled, because then I wouldn't be able to see his pretty face anymore.


End file.
